Clevver Girl
by Archemios
Summary: Eridan fell down a hole during his class' visit to an archaeological digsite and it's up to Aradia to rescue him. They start talking and find they have more in common than they thought. Human!stuck


Huh, I forgot I wrote this awhile back. It's probably my best Homestuck fanfiction, in my opinion. I ship Eridan with everybody, but him and Aradia are definitely one of my favorite pairings.

The fall hurt. It really hurt. As you stand and massage your rump with a ringed hand, wincing at the pain, you try to gather your bearings. Above you is the hole you slipped through trying to follow the others. It's hard to make out without your glasses and you realize they fell from your face. Growling in frustration, you begin searching for them on hands and knees, your designer pants getting filthy from the mineral water and dirt of the cave floor. Your best friend and secret crush, Feferi Peixes, warned you not to wear expensive clothing to the digsite, but in your defense, you hadn't expected to actually enter the dig.

Scowling, you begin to wonder why you signed up for an archaeology class in the first place. You were a history major, yes, but visiting dig sites and getting dirty wasn't what you did. You devoured textbooks, analyzed maps and records, put the pieces together. You weren't even that interested in Ancient History beyond the conquests of Alexander the Great, or the glory of the Roman Empire. In fact, almost all of your studies, essays and passion centered around that singular accomplishment of mankind: war. The only other passion you had that compared was your ancestor, an infamous pirate lord that gave Blackbeard a run for his money.

After what feels like twenty minutes of scurrying in the darkness, you bump into someone and look up at them and are almost blinded by the headlamp they're wearing. Blocking out the harsh rays with a free, ringed hand, you manage to make out some details. Long, dark hair and an hourglass figure; a girl. You smile, quick to assume it's Feferi, but as your eyes adjust you can tell it's not Feferi based on the clothing. Briefly, your relief turns to worry and you wonder if it's your bitch of an ex-girlfriend, Vriska Serket, especially with the toothy grin gleaming in the light. Finally, however, you make out the almond eyes and round face as she hands you something that you quickly realize is your glasses. Putting them on, you stand up.

"Those are yours, I hope?" the girl asks in her usual, upbeat tone.

You glare at the Japanese-American in disdain. You're the first to admit you have a superiority complex, especially when it comes to people of lower incomes. It was no secret that this girl, Aradia Megido, was the poorest of the poor at the University, brought in on an amazingly generous scholarship due to her excellence in academics. She was practically in charge of the dig site they were standing in, along with her fellow archaeology student, Dave Strider. Even if you looked past her impoverished background, you hated her for her closeness to one Sollux Captor - the current boyfriend of your long-beloved Feferi.

"A' course they're mine," you sneer, though she doesn't flinch or frown, "You think there's just a bunch a' random glasses restin' down here."

"Huh, it's true what they say about how you talk," Aradia's smile widens, "That you pronounce 'v's like 'w's and double your 'w's. Quadruple 'u's."

You blink at her, too surprised to be offended by her bluntness. When you snap out of it, you prepare a nasty rebuttal, but she's already turned and begun to head deeper into the site.

"You should hurry if you want to catch up to the others," she explains as she walks, "Your friend Feferi said you disappeared awhile back."

"Oh she did, did she?" you ask. The mentioning of Feferi turned your bitter rage back to mild resentment. "An' how, pre tell, did you find me exactly? These ruins are pretty big."

"You'd be surprised how many people slip through that hole," Aradia laughs as if people plummeting through a crevice into the depths of a necropolis was funny, but then she continues. "So you're Eridan Ampora, the one with all those majors in history?"

You, Eridan Ampora, smirk at the recognition in her tone. If she was playing to your ego to break the ice, it was working.

"Yes, I am," your voice practically radiates with your smugness, "Are you a fan a my essays?"

"Not really," she shrugs and you feel insulted, "I read your paper on Spartan living in Ancient Greece and thought it was pretty good, though. Of course, the majority of your works don't interest me - they all seem to revolve around battles."

"Not a fan a' war, I take it?" you guess in a disinterested tone. Figures you'd get rescued by a peacenik.

"I don't really care about the subject one way or the other, honestly," Aradia shrugs, "I'm just interested in dead things: dead people, dead languages, dead cultures, dead ways of living, dead ideas..."

"For such a chipper girl, you sure sound morbid," you grunt in a poor attempt at a chuckle.

"I get that a lot, actually," she smiles brightly, as if it were a compliment, "It seems like something we have in common, if your papers are anything to go on."

You quirk an eyebrow in interest. Even though she says she isn't interested in your papers due to subject, she has to have at least skimmed over a few of them. "Oh yeah?" you ask confidently, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"What exactly I mean by that is that we both have a fondness for researching our ancestors," Ah. So she's referring to one of the papers you wrote on your pirate ancestor. "You also have this romanticism about great leaders and warriors from the past, which - along with your general interest in history - tells me how much you admire the past more than the present."

"Nice deduction, for a peasant," you sneer, though Aradia doesn't seem to have cared about the peasant comment, "but I bet you didn't know that I'm also a man a' the future - a man a' science."

"Really?" Aradia actually stops and turns, surprised.

"That's right," you hold your chin up high, proud of the fact, "I plan on gettin' my minor in chemistry an' I also read up on some a' the papers from the science department - namely the genetics researches."

"So you have an interest in biochemistry, I take it?" Aradia's smile never falters.

"Eh... no," you confess, a little embarrassed that you walked yourself into this corner, "I just like chemistry an' the concept of eugenics has always piqued my interest."

"I see," Aradia's smile fades and you feel your heart ache a little; it was a beautiful smile. "I had heard rumors that you were, well..."

"Heard what rumors about me?" you ask, a bit too indignantly.

"That you were something of a white supremacist," Aradia shrugs, giving a feeble smile.

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. Sure, you flaunted your noble lineage in people's faces, and sure you talked about medieval Europe and the Roman Empire as if they were the greatest things on Earth, and sure you looked down on the poor - which were generally non-whites - but you weren't a white supremacist! You think it over again and scowl. Alright, maybe you were a little, but it's not your fault that European culture appeals to you more than any other, or that the tribes of Africa and the Americas are offensive to your palette. Alright, maybe that is your fault subconciously.

"An' what if I am?" you ask carefully.

"I guess that's your choice," the archaeologist sighs, "I had just hoped that a self-proclaimed 'man of science' was a bit more open-minded."

"I've heard that one before," you murmer, rolling your eyes, "If you must know, I ain't a fuckin' Nazi, Ara. I just believe in a higher breed a' people is all."

"How does that not make you a Nazi?" Aradia turns back towards you, surprised and a little offended, "That's practically the definition of Nazism!"

"Alright, I misspoke!" you hold your hands up dismissively, but your scowl is far from apologetic, "I don't mean a higher breed as in one particular race over another - just that some people are born, destined for greatness, an' the rest aren't - an' maybe it has somethin' to do with genes, is all."

"Hmph," Aradia crosses her arms and eyes you, irritation slowly evaporating before she returns to leading you back to the others. "I suppose you're one of the ones born for greatness, then, Mr. Ampora?"

"You're damn right, I am!" you huff, holding your chin high again even though she isn't looking, "I'm descended from greatness, after all."

"Yes, yes - Orphaner Ampora, the infamous 'Dualscar', am I right?" Aradia asks, genuine interest shining through her minor annoyance. You blink a couple of times, surprised that a fellow student has heard of him; his accomplishments were usually overshadowed by other, more recognized pirates of the time.

"Yeah, that's him," you say softly.

"Admittedly, I don't know much about him other than he killed a lot of people and used to have a rivalry with his lover - what was her name, again?" Aradia taps her chin, "Marquise Mindfang, right?"

"Marquise Spinneret 'Mindfang' Serket," you correct with gusto, "An' they weren't officially lovers - that was never proven."

"Serket. Don't tell me: Vriska's ancestor?" Aradia asks, drawling out the other girl's name with distaste.

"Well, yeah. Serket isn't a very common surname, you know," you snicker a little at your joke, but can see Aradia isn't in a laughing mood. "You an' Vris have some bad blood between you, or somethin'?"

"Aren't you her boyfriend or something? Shouldn't you already know what happened?" Aradia snaps and it takes you by surprise. You're a little hurt about being reminded that you two dated.

"Actually, we broke up awhile back," you retort, though Aradia isn't the least bit apologetic.

"Lucky you," it's her turn to sneer, "She's a bitch."

"Ain't that the truth," you laugh and it startles Aradia out of her funk. She returns to smiling, glad someone shares her view. You want to press on and figure out what happened, but seeing her smile again makes you hesitant; you don't want her to return to brooding or annoyance. So you decide to return to a previous conversation. "So you think we have a lot in common, eh?"

"Yeah. For one thing, you study your ancestor and look up to them; my ancestor was pretty inspirational, too," Aradia smiles, "She lived around the same time as yours, too."

"Really," you're taken aback, surprised. It's a day for happy coincidences, apparently. "Who was she?"

"Damara. My sister's named after her," Aradia stopped and Eridan almost bumped into her, "She was part of a family of immigrant Japanese in England during the brief reign of Queen Crocker."

"Fef's descended from her, I believe," you recall.

"So is Jane Crocker, though she's not a direct descendant," Aradia explained, "But we're talking about my ancestor here."

"Sorry, go on," you say politely, choosing to act civil - if only once.

"Damara was trained and served as a handmaiden for the queen, who history records as 'Her Imperial Condescension' for her arrogance, malice and cruelty. To make a long story short, my ancestor was one of the most influential figures in the coup against her, even dueling with her before she died."

You whistle, genuinely impressed. Even if the Megido line was steeped in poverty and servitude for generations, it is something else to hear that one of them fought against a tyrant. You personally like the Condesce Crocker - mostly due to your ancestor's attraction towards her and your emulation of your ancestor - but you keep the thought to yourself. No need to offend anyone again; it was obviously a long walk.

"Shouldn't we have run into the others by now?" you whine.

"Yeah, that's weird," Aradia frowns, "I guess they decided to move on instead of wait. We'll catch up eventually."

The walk is silent for a time and you decide to take in the beauty of the ruins. It's primitive, ancient, dead. Yet, it is also new and exotic to you, full of life hiding in plain sight: moss clutching to ancient, carved rock, and small mammals and insects flitting about. Several gnats fly into you brown hair, but you pick them out with aggravation. The entire display earns a giggle from Aradia and you feel yourself blush a little at the attention. Eventually the ruin bores you and your thoughts drift to your social life, specifically girls.

Usually the top of your list is Feferi, your best friend and longtime secret crush. As you already know, she's in a relationship with her longtime crush, Sollux Captor - a computer programmer with an attitude almost as bad as his lisp. The two of you have never gotten along, namely because of the fact he doesn't respect you and the fact you look down on his low income. The fact Feferi doesn't love you is bad enough, although acceptable to you - after all, if you love her, let her go - but the fact the one she loves is the one person you absolutely cannot stand brings your piss to a boil. Thinking about Fef generally makes you feel lovesick and hurts, so you only do it when alone and can cry about it in peace - when you're not crying about to your other best friends, Karkat Vantas and Kanaya Maryam, of course.

Next on your mental list is Vriska Serket, dubbed by many as "the spider bitch". You don't know much about her other relationships, other than that Karkat hates her, Aradia hates her, Tavros Nitram fears her - more than his usual nervous fears of just about everything - and Kanaya seems to be the only one that likes her. You dated for a time after recognizing a mutual interest in piracy and nautical history. In reality, of course, both of you were obsessed with emulating your ancestor's and achieving their greatness. Anyone who knew anything about Dualscar and Mindfang knew the popular and often exaggerated romance stories tying the two of them, so it was only natural that Vriska would become the Mindfang to your Dualscar. Vriska liked the idea and for awhile you two shared a passionate rivalry and romance. There was never a real love between you, since you were in love with Feferi and she had a strong attraction to her favorite victim, Tavros. Thinking about her just made you angry.

As an indulgent sort, you let yourself think of numerous girls and the possibility of a romance with any of them. Even if you loved Feferi with all your heart, she wasn't going to be available anytime soon - in fact, you had a sneaking suspicion that she knew about your "secret" crush and was just too kind to break your heart. Of the girls you often thought about, Nepeta Leijon kept popping up. You had her in your Biology 101 class and couldn't help look at her from time to time. Short in stature with shortly-cut dark hair and yellow eyes, she had a love for cats of all sizes; from housecats to lions. Her ecstatic attitude, constant roleplaying and excessive cat puns led everyone to believe she was autistic, but you knew better. You knew she bow-hunted with her best friend, Equius Zahhak, was as agile and graceful as a cat and that she wrote some good fanfictions. You would know, since you followed her various online sources, though she never talked to you in person. You also knew she had the biggest crush on your friend, Karkat, and that made thinking about her annoying.

Sometimes you would think about Kanaya, but beside her beauty and class - and the fact you two pass catty gossip about others behind their backs - you aren't at all attracted to her. She's too close to you, but in a chiding, motherly sort of way. While you wouldn't mind a night in bed with her, the repercussions for such an act would be awkward and damaging to your relationship - which you're quite happy with. It didn't help that Kanaya showed an interest in Vriska a few years back and was in a relationship with Rose Lalonde now - you feel you might have a few too many appendages to be her type.

Sometimes, in your rare, open-minded moments, you consider Karkat as a partner. Like Kanaya and Feferi, he's willing to put up with you; unlike Kanaya and Feferi, he understands where you're coming from as a person. Being a self-proclaimed "romance expert", he tends to help all of your cliche with their respective romantic debacles, even if he "hates" them. Everyone knows, of course, that he likes all of you, even if he says otherwise. When all other thoughts of partners fail, you think of you and him, together and happy. Then you realize he is absolutely in love with Terezi Pyrope, the borderline-manic legal major. Manic wasn't an appropriate word, but you used to role-play with her and Vriska and know from experience how crazy those bitches are.

Bisexuality aside, you favor the fairer sex, and right now a fairly sexy individual was leading you back to your classmates. Your thoughts were almost entirely on her right now as you watched her walk in those cut-off cargo shorts that hugged her ass. It hadn't occurred to you how developed she was for one of Asian descent. She didn't have exceptionally-large breasts or buttocks, but they were... nice. You briefly think over the fact you misjudged her figure based on her ethnicity and come to realize you might be a tad racist. You promise to work on that later, but right now all you can focus on is Aradia's shapely buttocks and toned thighs. Somehow your thoughts have gone beyond perverted imagining and into a realm of how they came to be. Aradia was a digger, an explorer - a regular Indiana Jones. Your eyes flit towards her head for a moment and you realize she even wears his signature hat. A glance back down, this time stopping at her backpack, and you see the whip strapped to the side. You smile; suddenly a conversation topic pops to mind.

"I take it you're a fan a' movies, Ara?" you ask.

"How'd you know?" she turns to face you while you while walking.

You're briefly stunned by her soft, brown eyes rimmed in a rusty eyeliner. Her smile is genuine and disarming and you feel yourself melt. You realize another thing about yourself: you have an attraction to chipper girls. Feferi, Nepeta, and now Aradia. Bubbly, ecstatic and chipper. You frown a little, disappointed in your lack of creativity when it comes to who you're attracted to. Hell, even Vriska's melodrama and constant smirking seemed like a form of cheeriness.

"Just a lucky guess," you shrug, snapping back to reality. Aradia doesn't buy it, you can tell, and turns to face you, smirking curiously. You had been dying to check out the front of her body as much as the back, but of course you can't do that while she's watching you. It suddenly becomes increasingly difficult for you to keep your eyes locked on her face and not on her chest. "I'm goin' to go out on a limb here an' guess you're a fan a' _Raiders a' the Lost Ark_?"

Her smile widens till she's grinning from ear to ear and her eyes glisten with some nostalgia. "What gave it away?" she tips her hat slightly in reference.  
"As much the hat as the whip," you laugh, and then ask, "Why do you need a whip, anyway?"

"It's not that I need it," Aradia takes the coil from her backpack and rolls it around in her hands, "I just really like whips. They're fun to use and compact."

Your mind flits through a dozen dirty thoughts at once, several of which scare you. You're not much for S&M - frankly it sounds like something Equius would be into. Suddenly thinking of Equius, you remember that he and Aradia had dated for a time and your mood sours a little - figures that a swell girl like this would be taken. Oh well, no harm in asking.

"So, uh, is Eq a fan a' whips, too?" you ask hesitantly. Aradia tenses up, blushing, and glares at you.

"What are you suggesting?!" she demands. You almost fall backwards in surprise at this change in attitude.

"Nothin'! I just thought it was somethin' you two bonded over!" you try to explain. Only now do you realize how suggestive your question had been. "I know he's a huge fan a' horses, so I thought maybe you two liked whips because a'... Actually, I'm not even sure how that thought pans out."  
Aradia calmed down a little, but was still bristling. "You asked a really stupid question, Ampora," she chided, but then her expression took on a naughty edge, "But yes, he did like the whip."

You feel your face heat up at that comment and the little sway she put in her hips as she returned to walking. Was she..? Was she flirting with you? You shake your head and frown. You were probably exaggerating the sway and misreading signals again. Wait a minute, she referred to Equius in the past tense.

"What do you mean he did like them?" you ask, catching up to her. You hadn't thought to walk beside her until now. "Aren't you two still an item?"

"No," Aradia didn't seem particularly heartbroken, "We kind of drifted apart. He was a little too weird for me, though I think my older sister would've loved him."

"Too weird for you?" you smirk playfully, "Says the girl dressin' like Indiana Jones an' admittin' to her fun with whips."

Aradia stopped and unrolled the whip she was still carrying in her hand. You pucker your mouth shut, suddenly worried. She begins twirling the rope above her head, cracking it every few seconds before giving one powerful crack downwards. Where it struck against a wall, a large clump of moss fell away, but the ruin walls beneath were utterly unscathed. You blink in surprise at her ability as she smirks in triumph, rolling the item up.

"Keep in mind, I was holding back," she winks at you, giving another dimpled smile. Alright, you decide, she's definitely flirting with you. Time to make your move. "With how much we've been stopping, it'll take forever to catch up with the rest of the group."

"I'm actually enjoyin' the quality time," you say in measured tones, smiling softly, "In fact, I kind a' wish we never reach them." Aradia looks over her shoulder at you, curiously, but then smiles, eyes half-closed, slyly.

"Eridan Ampora, are you trying to put the moves on me?" she asks you playfully.

"I'm not sure," you shrug, "Is it workin'?"

Aradia laughs at that and its liveliness made your heart melt.

"Maybe," she teases.

Your spirits soared at the fact she hadn't shot you down right there.

...

You are now Aradia Megido.

You are earning your double major in Archaeology and Anthropology due to your fascination with dead things and dead civilizations. You are also multi-tongued, due in-part to your Japanese heritage, as well as your studying Latin and Aramaic, as well as Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and Greek. Your archaeology professor is so confident in your abilities that you have practically been given free reign over the dig site you are currently exploring and were put in charge of showing the Archaeology 101 students around on their field trip.

About an hour ago one of the students, Feferi Peixes, approached you with concern. You knew her well; you had been roommates your freshman year and both of you had a crush on Sollux Captor, but after an event - the event, as you refer to it in your mind and never speak of aloud - any chance you had with Sollux died. Since then, Feferi and Sollux have become an item, much to your chagrin. Even after a passionate relationship with the brilliant, honorable and muscular Equius Zahhak, you still couldn't quite get him out of your head. Even with hurt and jealousy in your heart, you could never hold anything against Feferi and agreed to go in search of her lost friend, Eridan Ampora.

You left the group in the hands of fellow archaeology student, Dave Strider. He complied with a neutral expression and a nearly unperceivable nod, true to form. In all your years of study and fieldwork with him, he seemed to alternate between being the cool and quiet type to be a full-blown dork. Beneath his slicked, blonde hair and dark aviators - which he even wore down in the dark of the ruins - he was a normal guy with abnormal tastes, like fighting his brother on top of their apartment complex with mass-produced swords.

You immediately headed to the most likely place Eridan would be. There was a hole in the ruins that several students and workers and fallen through, fortunately with only minor injuries at worst. Sure enough, there was a familiar face. Even hunched over in the grime of the cavern floor, he had a regal appearance from features alone. Lean, but fit, a face aquiline and impressive in bearing, though almost feminine in grace. His hair was short, brown with a bleached streak down the center and slicked back. His choice in clothing was interesting, even if he hadn't been in a cave: plaid designer pants, a striped designer shirt, unbuttoned near the top with sleeves rolled up beneath a - surprise - designer sweater vest. A striped scarf rested on his neck and he had nearly a dozen rings coating every finger. Your foot tapped against something and when you picked it up to examine in the light of your headlamp, you realized it was his glasses.

Stepping over him, you smile warmly as he tries to recognize you. At first he relaxes, but quickly tenses up and grimaces before finally settling on an expression of annoyance. Of course you don't mind the dirty looks; you're not one to get down anymore - those days are long behind you. After he puts them on, you two pass words. He is exceptionally rude, but you knew that already. Everyone knew how bigoted Eridan was, and again you didn't let it get to you.

After an hour of walking and talking, he seems to warm up to you, especially after you mention his papers and his ancestor - though of course you knew he'd warm up after that. Within a few minutes of talking to him you could tell the rumors of him being an egomaniac weren't exaggerated. Also, to your annoyance, he seemed like a racist - just as rumors pegged him - until you realized he was just an idiot. Besides that slight drawback, he's not nearly as bad as everyone had him made out to be. Arrogant, pompous and a little whiny, but you think a few weeks with his hands in the dirt would change his tune real quick - for the better, of course.

He was very different from what you had expected, but you could see why your friends exaggerated his shortcomings. Karkat griped about Eridan's pathetic whining, but you have to admit Karkat's ranting wasn't much different. Kanaya wouldn't say much about him, but what little she had to say was about how she pitied him, "the poor darling." as she called him. Sollux painted him out to be the scum of the Earth, hitting on anything that moved and warned you that if he ever acted nice to you, he was probably trying to get into your pants. You were pretty sure that wasn't true at all, but even if it was, you wouldn't mind.

Alright, alright - so you're not really into Eridan, and you're definitely not the type to sleep around with guys you just met; even your sister isn't like that. Still, he is attractive and he's flirting with you and you have to admit: flirting is fun. You haven't gotten back in the saddle since leaving Equius months ago - horse pun not intended. Eridan asks you about your work and your ancestor, and he seems genuinely interested, and you like that; he's a history buff, like you. He asks you about your whip and whether Equius liked it, and even though you're almost certain he was bluntly referring to your sex life, you've come to realize Eridan is - yet again - an idiot. Just for kicks, you confide in him that you and Equius did very much enjoy the whip, though you're sure he'll never be able to tell if you're joking or not.  
After some more flirting, silence falls between you and you're disappointed. You had figured Eridan, from what you heard, would at least be spouting random claims of accomplishment to try and impress you, but it seemed he had fallen silent. A glance beside you and you see his eyes slide away, a light blush on his cheeks. You smile, pleased that guys are looking at you. Again, getting back into the saddle feels pretty good. Eventually, Eridan begins fidgeting, clearly trying to think up a topic to discuss, and you figure that you shouldn't let the guy do all the work and should cut him some slack; the silence was getting boring, anyway.

"You got any hobbies besides history?" you ask, curious. Only just now do you realize you've spent these minutes of silence thinking about the man standing next to you.

"Me?" he asks, dumbfounded. Before you can give a snarky remark, he continues, "I used to race yachts."

You arch your eyebrows. You knew Ampora was loaded, but you didn't know he was _that_ loaded.

"Yacht racing?" you whistle, "Must have been expensive."

"Usually, yes," the noble shrugs modestly, but he can't hide the smugness from his face as he fixes his glasses, "But I race a yacht passed down through my family. It's nice an' fast."

"You say you used to," you point out, suddenly curious. The sadness in his eyes only makes you more curious.

"I used to race yachts with Vris," he explains, "When she left me, it..." He doesn't finish, but you understand and place a hand gently on his shoulder. He looks at it in bewilderment, clearly unaccustomed to people touching him respectfully, then smiles at you with a genuine, thankful expression before quickly returning to scowling and stepping out of your reach.

"I'm also a competition rifle shooter," he brags, and you can tell the old Eridan is back. You roll your eyes.

"Guess you've competed against the others in our class, then?" you ask. Roxy Lalonde and Jade Harley are also competitive rifle shooters, if you recall correctly.  
"Competed?" Eridan scoffs, "Hardly. I buried them."

"Funny, because I've seen their first place ribbons on Facebook a couple of times," you say; in truth, you have. Eridan fumes and scowls. "There has to be more than yachts, guns and history to you, though."

"First off - they're rifles," the noble corrects, and you're not sure if he did it for comedic effect or was dead serious, "An' secondly, yeah, I do other stuff. I plot my ascent to the top a' the world!"

"Oh?" you quirk an eyebrow, curious where he's going with this, "How do you do that?"

"I'll take over my father's company someday, and all the responsibilities a' takin' care a' House Ampora," Eridan explains, "With the combination a' economic and political power, I'll extend our holdin's deeper into the global economy an' puppet governments. I'll be up there with the big boys."

"Wow, you really put the 'noble' in 'nobility'," you smirk at your own joke and Eridan returns to his trademark scowl.

"You're just too poor to grasp the bigger picture," he sniffs, holding his chin up.

That remark actually got under your skin a little, and you're tempted to just punch him in the face. True-to-form, however, you shrug it off and grin. This surprises him, since he had been expecting your anger. In place of his scowl, there is a look of bewilderment, fear and relief. You can guess the fear is from things not going like he had planned, and have sneaking suspicions the relief comes from the fact you weren't offended - you are beginning to think Eridan has really come to like you during your walk.

"I grasp the concept just fine; income has nothing to do with it," you explain in measured tones, rather than your usual ecstatic ones, "You're just doing what every other major company is doing. It's detestable, but admirable."

Eridan blinks a few times before it registers that you understood what he was saying. His face is conflicted, half-scowling at your detestable remark, yet half-smiling at the fact you called him admirable. Clearly, not many people have paid him compliments before, so what little he gets feeds his ego.

You see a light reflecting off of the cavern walls further ahead, almost unperceivable to anyone who hasn't spent countless hours within the dig site. You can tell at once that it is the group you were in search of, but rather than elation, you feel disappointment. You had been hoping to have more quality time with Eridan, without any of the tension of a date, and his last "poor" comment, while you were sure was just his typical ego, left a sour taste in your mouth. Very quickly you take a sharp turn down a tunnel that you know will take awhile to get through. Eridan, not accustomed to the dark of the ruins and fully trusting of you, stumbles a few steps before following your sudden course change.

Might as well make some more conversation.

"What do you have against the poor, anyway?" you really couldn't help but ask. Seriously, what was his deal?

"Well it's not all poor people," Eridan said, almost defensively, "Just... Alright, so you see a guy walkin' into a store an' buyin' $400 worth a' food with his fuckin' food stamps, an' he's already morbidly obese, an' that doesn't piss you off?"

"My family's actually friends with a few of those kinds of people," you say nonchalantly, "Most of them have glandular problems and serious health issues, and most of that money and food goes to feeding their families."

"Why do they have so many kids when they have health issues an' can't afford to feed them, is my question," Eridan says, more than a little worked up.

"Why do rich people have so few kids when they have nothing but money to spend on them?" you counter.

"Are you sayin' I'm spoiled?" Eridan demanded.

"Are you saying I'm morbidly obese, waste government money, and will have a million children?"

"Ok, good point," the noble-blood mutters. There's a stretch of silence before he speaks up again. "Sorry."

You stop, turn and stare with a playful grin on your lips.

"Did Eridan Ampora just apologize to me?" you ask.

"Don't get a big head over it," Eridan scoffs, but doesn't scowl. He looks serious for once and refuses to meet your eyes. "Look, I've never been good at talkin' with people, an' I know I seem confident and egotistical, but in all seriousness, I don't think very highly a' myself. I always say the wrong thin's, an' no one can fuckin' stand me because a' it." he paused, as if contemplating why he even started speaking in the first place, and you wait patiently for him to continue.

"I guess what I'm tryin' to say is... thank you," he gave a rare, almost sad smile, "You've barely spent any time with me up until now, an' I've been a major ass this entire time, an' you're still polite and peppy. I just... Thanks." He promptly shuts up, clearly not knowing what else to add to his sentiment.

He turns away from you, clearly embarrassed about getting so personal with someone he had, essentially, just met. You couldn't blame him, but at the same time you were touched by this rare look at what Eridan was like beneath all his gold rings and fancy scarves. Very gently, you reach out and take his hand in yours. Startled, Eridan almost pulls back, but then he sees your smile and his cheeks are more than a little blushed.

"You can say some stupid things, sometimes," you tell him, and his face remains unchanged, "But you're not nearly as bad as everyone else says you are."

"Thanks," he says, almost in a deadpan, then fidgets around nervously. "So, if you're not doin' anythin' later... When we get out a' this damn cave, you want to hang out, or somethin'?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing!" your smile broadens and tugs something of a smile from Eridan, "I was hoping you'd join me in the dig site later."

"Oh," he seems a little crestfallen, "For college work?"

"Well, yes and no," you explain - there's more than a little bit this boy doesn't know about you. "You see, I've never thought of archaeology as "work" - it's too fun to be work! I've been into tomb raiding and spelunking for as long as I can remember. Most girls like to bring their boyfriends along shopping, 'cause it's part of who they are and they want to share it; I take people into dig sites and caves, because that's part of who I am."

"Sounds fuckin' nuts," Eridan gives a dry laugh, "But I think I could warm up to wallowin' in all this dirt."

"That's the spirit!"

A moment of silence before Eridan smirks at you.

"So am I your boyfriend now, since you're invitin' me to dig sites an' caves?" he asks and you tsk; you had wanted to string him along a little more, but you guess you let it slip that you wanted to date him.

"Only if you think you're up to getting your hands dirty," you challenge.

"Oh, believe me - I've never backed down from a challenge a' gettin' dirty," Eridan gives a single, barking laugh like some pirate from an old movie. You're not sure if his "dirty challenges" are a sexual innuendo, or a reference to the murder and mayhem he idolized of his ancestor; either way, the husky laugh got you a little hot under the collar.

"Alright, let's get back to the others, then," you say.

"Isn't that what we've been doing?" Eridan asks, and you give him a coy smile that takes him a moment to register.

"Clever girl." he mutters, half to himself.


End file.
